The Iguanas

Most bands start repeating themselves long before they pass the decade mark, so at 13, the Iguanas can certainly be forgiven for reuniting with their first producer -- to make an album that’s a marked departure from all four of their previous studio recordings.

The Iguanas haven’t forsaken their signature sound on Plastic Silver 9 Volt Heart. However, the prime elements -- roots-rock, New Orleans R&B, Latin and Caribbean rhythms -- were fused with a fresh jolt of inspiration during an eight-day recording session helmed by Justin Niebank, producer of 1993’s The Iguanas and 1994’s Nuevo Boogaloo. Many of the vocals are early takes, lending the tracks the raw ease of a club gig. At the same time, sophisticated songwriting and rich yet uncluttered arrangements make Plastic Silver 9 Volt Heart the band’s most mature, cohesive album to date.

Despite their well-deserved reputation as a party band non pareil, New Orleans’ Iguanas have always had a flair for melodies and lyrics as well as grooves. They ascend to a new level here with songs like the title track, a wistful R&B paean to the healing power of radio, co-written by the Iguanas’ Rod Hodges and friend Dave Alvin (of Blasters fame). The lyrics have a cinematic detail and sweep that carries through the whole album, which conjures a seductive late-night atmosphere while often hinting at the grim, corrupt side of nightlife.

“The Liquor Dance” has a delightful melody and tipsy, border-town giddiness that’s almost as sinister as lyrics such as “You look just like a movie star -- with your face down on the bar.” The murky ballad “Abandonado,” sung entirely in Spanish, sounds as lonely as 3 a.m., while the rowdy “Zacatecas” could be any hour in the kind of dive whose denizens never see sunlight. The infectious “I Dig You,” straddlng the line between garage-rock and psychedelica, finds that moment when last call leads to improbable professions of affection: “I dig you -- all the way to China.”

The complexity of the arrangements, which sneak in everything from train whistles to mellotron, echoes the multiple levels of meaning in the songs. “Un Avion,” featuring the Iguanas’ trademark twin-saxophone approach to Chicano R&B, begins with the simple image of a child watching a plane, but the minor-key setting and tense arrangement undermine the innoncence of the question: “A donde va” -- “Where is it going?”

Shadows haunt both the nonchalant, ‘60s-leaning “Yesterday,” with its catchy “na-na-na-na” chorus, and the torrid, Spanish-and-English “Mexican Candy.” The R&B rocker “Flame On” is relentlessly up tempo, with the exuberance of a reveler on the edge of realizing that last drink was one too many.

The nearly hour-long Plastic Silver 9-Volt Heart ends on a note of wrenching ambivalence with the ballad “Goodbye Again” -- a fitting conclusion for an album offering love and death, joy and emptiness, resignation and transcendence, if not in equal measure, then in uniquely potent proportions.

The Iguanas are (L-R):
Rene Coman: bass, piano, organ, guitar, mellotron, background vocals, tambourine
Derek Huston: tenor sax
Rod Hodges: vocals, guitar, accordion, lap steel
Doug Garrison: drums, percussion
Joe Cabral: vocals, sax, bajo sexto, guitar, organ, percussion.